


Rewind Time

by Marvel_Dragons



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Guitars, Original Character(s), Other, Self-Indulgent, Tags will be edited, Technically Reader Insert, fourth wall breaks, trash writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvel_Dragons/pseuds/Marvel_Dragons
Summary: Who decided to plop a young adult in a hole and expose them to possibly traumatic or harmful moments?When in doubt, blame the government. Or whatever the equivalent is.And when someone is thrown into the real story of a game, what happens?Well, that's when stories are made.
Relationships: Flowey (Undertale) & Reader, Sans (Undertale) & Reader, Toriel (Undertale) & Reader
Kudos: 7





	Rewind Time

**Author's Note:**

> Self indulgent as heck.  
I don't care, however, and will be laughing as I write.  
That doesn't mean it will update though.  
All Undertale rights go to Toby Fox, and songs to their respective artists.

_ Some people are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them _

_ William Shakespeare _

Wouldn’t it be great if time could just… rewind? Fixing your mistakes, no consequences, figure out how to be noticed and appreciated… That’s how megalomaniacs come to power. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely all that jazz.

Yet, people still entertain the notion. I mean, there are so many things that dedicate themselves to discussing that problem. Only a few touch on the consequences, and often not even directly. 

So what would happen if someone with too much of a heart learned of the consequences presented in a game, grew too attached, and learned from their mistakes without changing anything?

“Hi, my name’s Helen and welcome to the story of how I became a real-life world saver”

* * *

“Jesus, what was in that cup? God, whatever it was, it messed my head up _ big time _.” press my palms to my eyes and tangle my fingers in my hair, groaning as the light tries to become corporeal and stab my eyes out.

“Hell’s Handbasket, why the frick was I the one destined to have an early-bird job? God, I regret my every decision…” I slowly pry my eyes open after rolling onto my stomach. A small yellow flower waves under my breath, with hundreds more under and around me.

“Who the f- pardon my language,” I mutter. “WHOMST the freshavacado dropped me in the middle of a flower patch?” I sit up, back creaking. I wince as my foot sends a needle of pain into my ankle, but brush it off in favor of cracking what seems like every bone in my spine.

“God, what I wouldn’t give for the ability to bend backward and not fall” I mutter, rubbing my eyes. Moving doesn’t seem to be stopping the sun from shining, which makes sense for a flower patch, but is still odd. You’d think there would be trees or something.

I finally take the time to glance around and furrow my brow at the sheer cliff walls that trap me, with a small circle of light shining onto the flowers. It looks almost ethereal like somewhere an angel would descend.

I run my hand through my hair again, before sighing. 

“Alright, you toe-rag, time to face the music!” I cup my hands around my mouth. “This isn’t funny, and I swear to the Truth I’m going to find you, hunt you down, and beat you with my Telephone Pole of Armaggeddon!” Turning around, I spot the backpack I was carrying around yesterday, which I had been using for the past week. I should probably re-evaluate my life choices, but hiking up some obscure route to a rented cabin in what Dad would probably refer to as Cold Country just to stargaze might have been reckless. Either way, it helps to be prepared.

Foresight, please don’t have failed me now… and thank God it was actually helpful. There’s books, my phone, a charger, some trail mix, a big bottle of water, an empty thermos, and what feels like a pencil case. I pull all the stuff out, and organize it. The trail mix is a bit pulverized, but that’s to be expected. The backpack still feels like it has stuff in it, but whatever it is has been lost to the void. I’ll dig it out later.

Digging in my pockets, I find some guitar picks, but not much else. Lint, mostly. Chapstick in a breast pocket. I find some shinies, but they’re pretty small.

“Damn. Forgot my sunglasses in the cabin. The blighters never stay at hand, do they…” I trail off in thought, staring at the wall that I’m pretty sure is actually a corridor.

“Minecraft instincts, don’t backstab me, please. You’re the last measure of sanity I have left” I carefully repackage the things, before slinging my backpack over one shoulder and readjusting my jackets. The pins clink together, and I smile wryly.

It’s like a goddamn D&D campaign, and I’m the human bard, Clink. Except without the constant seduction. I am not seduct-y. At all. Compare my likeness to a potato, and the potato will outshine me.

Stepping carefully in the corridor, I reach an archway. It’s worn but has a familiar symbol that gnaws at the forefront of my mind and grand pillars.

Looks like the Trifecta or whatever it was called grew wings…

I step through the arch, into another catacomb- is that the right word? Cavern, I suppose, to be unspecific. This one doesn’t have a hole in the roof but still has light, somehow. The grass is green, and visible this time, but flowers still dot the field. Or rather, a flower.

Awfully suspicious.

“Hello?” I call, stepping around the grass.

“Howdy!” A squeaky voice answers my call, and I reflexively whip around. A life of people around my height doesn’t make me look down, but the lack of people compels me.

A face on a flower smiles cheerfully at me.

Outwardly, I hope I don’t react, but inwardly I am screaming. Or maybe outwardly, who knows, existence is pain and we are constantly screaming.

“I’m Flowey. Flowey the Flower!” The flower speaks, proving that this is not a glitch in the Mayan Matrix, but rather as real as it can be. 

I snort a little. The kid has unimaginative parents, huh? “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. But, uh, isn’t that from Undertale or something?” The flower’s eyes lose a spark, and the smile turns into more of a grimace, but I don’t notice because I have turned around, smiling a little.

“Is this seriously how you’re trying to get to me? Have I been, what, abducted or whatever by an ‘extreme fan’? News flash, pal, you don’t have flat blades, you don’t spin around really fast, and I’m fairly certain you aren’t powered by pure electricity.” I laugh a little more, before turning back to Flowey. He seems to be the same.

“Sorry, Flowey, this is a little surreal to me. Please, continue.” I wave a hand, the other wrapped around my backpack.

His smile seems to grow, just a smidge. “Alright! So, you don’t seem completely new to the Underground, huh? Well, I’m here to teach you how things work!”


End file.
